With a Bloody Background
by Dragon Silhouette
Summary: AU - Living in the Kusajishi district was not easy for Toushirou. Fortunately, one slice of watermelon led him hanging onto the shoulders of Zaraki Kenpachi, alongside the pink blob that goes by the name of Yachiru. Who said Fate was cruel?
1. The Giant and the Pink Blob

**Hey, so I got this idea from this guy's story, and I thought it would be interesting to try and write what happens if Toushirou was raised by Kenpachi, along with Yachiru.  
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**SPECIAL THANKS to Mr. Hourglass -this idea is HIS, people. Give credit where it deserves.  
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******Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo.**

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**Chapter 1: The Giant and The Pink Blob**

The boy perched atop the tree, gazing at the bubbling fight with vague interest. A mild breeze from the south ruffled his snow-white hair. A small, slightly-bloodstained, light-green yukata hung over his slim frame and a pair of worn straw sandals protected his feet from the rough grounds of Kusajishi. Or was it Zaraki? He was in the edges of either one –probably Kusajishi. No one wore sandals in Kusajishi -except the boy. He made it himself. He broke off a twig and meticulously tore it apart strip by strip as the men below charged at each other, weapons in plain sight. Five minutes into the clash, one of the men swore at the wooden spear that protruded just inches from his heart. Stupidly, he pulled it out, spraying the glade with a clear mist of crimson blood. A sizeable amount of the scarlet liquid splattered the boy, but he made no move to wipe them off. It happened to him often enough to know that there would be more to come.

He felt his stomach growl, and stood from his branch. With nary a sound, he scaled around the trunk, jumped from behind the tree and landed on the beaten trail littered with foliage out of the fighters' sight. He dashed to his left, running a few hundred metres until he came upon a miniature clearing solely occupied by a thriving watermelon patch. This precious patch of fertile land was the reason he had been keeping an eye on the thugs; one of them might actually come out alive and stumble onto his only source of food –or worse, the entire fight might somehow crash through the trees and ruin the fruits. He picked a small one, plonked it in a ragged sack he kept hidden in the trunk of a tree, and hauled it over his shoulder. The boy made his way back to the brawl –only five of the original thirteen men were left. The bodies of dead men were scattered on the blood-soaked earth.

The boy sneaked back to the glade, scrambled up the tree, and continued hiding himself behind a thin veil of pine needles. He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small, sheathed knife. He had pilfered it from an unsuspecting brute after watching him survive a particularly vicious free-for-all. He drew the serrated knife from its leather sheathe and expertly sliced the watermelon into pieces small enough for him to eat. He cleaned the juice from the knife using the hem of his yukata and stowed it away. Gingerly picking up a slice of his food, he monitored the struggle still going on between four men –the fifth one had dropped out of the scrap because of the spear sticking out of his torso (it might have been the same spear to have taken out the other man during the start of the fight). Sinking his teeth into the watermelon, he studied the remaining combatants. One had a badly-scratched face, his right eye having been torn out of its socket at the beginning of the fight. The second man only had one arm, but fighting extremely well with his remaining limb–oh, he had just killed one of the men by slitting his throat. The last man was the worst of the three. His ear looked like it got bitten off, and a large portion of his upper body was covered in deep gouges and cuts; it was a miracle his intestines were not spilling out yet. He had a large dagger –almost like a short sword –jutting from his back, dangerously close to the spinal column. He was in danger of losing too much blood.

The boy took another bite.

The one-armed man ruthlessly beheaded the one in danger of losing blood, and faced his remaining enemy. He waved his sword threateningly.

The boy leaned forward. He could sense these two were veterans; people who survived in the harsher districts of Rukongai for years. These were the most dangerous kinds of souls. They were tough, cruel, and will do anything and _everything_ to stay alive. They were survivors.

_**Ba-dump. Ba-dump.**_

The boy blinked, then doubled over, dropping his half-eaten slice. His breath hitched. He couldn't breathe. His insides were constricting, and dark spots were moving across his vision. Sweat beaded his forehead. He didn't know that the two fighters, in the silence of the glade, had heard the watermelon drop from the tree.

"Hey, you!"

The boy didn't reply. His head was pounding. He wanted to throw up everything he had eaten in the last week, but his pride and current situation would not let him do this simple act. The men were not helping. They had teamed up and tried to shake the tree, attempting to capture the boy who might possibly own something of value if he can afford to possess something as trivial as watermelon.

The boy pressed a hand to his temple. The throbbing was getting worse. He closed his eyes and concentrated. He felt something deep within him stir. It curled, shaking itself awake after years of slumber. It sparked briefly, before spreading icy warmth throughout the boy's body. This cool wave of _something_ washed away the pain, leaving behind a refreshing sensation –much like the rush he feels during the first snowfall of winter. He sat up, slowing his breathing. He fixed his balance, and went back to watching the two men try and shake him from the tree. He wondered what the sudden agony was all about. Was the watermelon poisoned?

"This way, Ken-chan! This way! The noise is this way!"

The two men started, then turned. The boy looked up. A tall man of lean muscles emerged from the trees, radiating the dangerous aura that was the source of the boy's former discomfort. Hanging on his shoulder was a pink blur that looked quite familiar to the boy. Pink was a very unusual colour in Kusajishi. Usually, it was dark green, brown, or red. Mostly red. Where had he seen that before?

The man scanned the sight before him. Two bloody people and a boy sitting on a tree branch. The men were nothing unusual. But the boy was a strange sight. There weren't many children in the higher districts who were actually alive. His white hair and teal eyes were as bizarre as his own charge's pink hair. He looked like he wasn't afraid of the men. In fact, he seemed almost amused.

The pink blob chirped, "Hey! I know you!"

The boy switched his gaze onto the miniature pink-haired girl on the big man's shoulder. She really does look very familiar.

"Oh! Are those meanies bothering you?"

Then it clicked. The girl was one of the only two children he had met in Kusajishi. The other kid –a boy with raven eyes who had gone by the name of Hayate–had been killed at least two days after he met him. His gory remains had been strewn across a ring of freshly-slaughtered bodies. The boy was lucky to have made it out of that particular battlefield alive.

"You know him, Yachiru?"

"Yep! We met before. He's the only one as small as me. He gave me yummy red stuff."

"Red stuff?" The big man was instantly suspicious. "Red stuff" was in great abundance in the Kusajishi district.

"Watermelon," the boy muttered. "She looked hungry."

"Yeah! He made the sounds from my tummy go away."

"He fed you."

"Yes."

His eyes softened. Not many people would take the time to feed a hungry girl when they themselves were struggling to survive in the harsh environment. The man glared at the two warriors. "And what do you think you're doing?"

One-arm snarled, "What's it to you?"

"You trying to rob the kid?"

"None of your business," One-eye said. He turned back to the tree. "Come down, you brat."

The boy rolled his eyes.

"Yaahhh!" A burly thug crashed through the trees, holding a long katana in one hand and a knife in the other. "Give –"

"I have nothing." One-eye pointed at the boy. "He has watermelon."

The burly thug snorted, his pig-like nostrils flaring. "What use is that? I want water." He narrowed his eyes. "But if you can afford to have watermelon..." He dropped the chipped weapons and started shaking the tree.

Big mistake.

The big man lunged forward and slashed vertically at the thug with his own sword, effectively cutting him in half. Blood and gore splattered everyone's clothing. The two men recoiled. The boy flinched slightly. The man must have had immense strength to be able to cut a thickset man in two.

"Go, Kenny!" the girl cheered.

The two men swore, then glared at their now-common enemy.

"You don't hurt this boy," he clarified.

One-arm swore, raised his sword, and charged at the man. One-eye followed suit. The man held out his jagged katana and easily dispatched the two veterans with one sweep of his weapon.

"Idiots," the man grumbled. He nonchalantly scratched his scar.

The boy bit his lip. This man was dangerous. He didn't like his chances of jumping down and running away. He might be faster than the man, but he was short. The man's long strides would be more than enough to catch up to him. He might try to leap from tree branch to tree branch, but he had only done that once –with the help of luck, desperation, and a bunch of knife-wielding bandits.

"Kid, I'm not going to hurt you."

The boy looked at the man doubtfully. He had heard that phrase exactly thirty-two times. By now, he really hated –no, _despised_ –those words.

"Seriously."

"Ken-chan is really nice!" the girl added. "I'm Yachiru! Kusajishi Yachiru." She looked proud of the name.

The boy tilted his head. "You have a name now?"

"Kenny gave it to me." She beamed.

The boy examined "Kenny." His features were rough, and a long scar ran down the length of his face. Messy black hair crowned his head. His body was filled out with lean muscles, not a single speck of fat lining a limb. He sensed the noticeably lethal aura flattening the grass around him. This man was the living representation of danger. Even now, he was having slight trouble taking in oxygen.

"I'm Zaraki Kenpachi." The man looked at Yachiru's friend up and down. Small and skinny, but with a brilliant spark in the eyes that spoke of hidden passion and deadly intelligence. It was clear the boy survived through his wits. "Well?" he prompted.

"Well what?"

"Your name," Kenpachi said impatiently.

"I don't have one," he responded bluntly.

Kenpachi murmured, somewhat sadly, "Another one." He remembered his days of being an unnamed. The days before he met Yachiru, the one bright glimmer in his otherwise scarlet existence.

"Can you give him a name, Ken-chan?" Yachiru pleaded. "Having a name is so much fun."

"What's the point of having a name?" the boy mumbled.

"It gives you an identity," Kenpachi said softly. "It makes you feel less insignificant." He glanced at the boy's white hair and his intense eyes. "You remind me of a lion. Strong and clever." He thought for a moment. "Where are we, anyway?"

"Either Kusajishi or Zaraki," he said.

The man exhaled. "Fine." He paused. "From now on, your name will be Hitsugaya Toushirou."

"Son of winter lion?" the boy questioned.

"It also means intelligent," Kenpachi said. "You have to be pretty smart if you survived all this time in wherever we are."

The newly-dubbed Hitsugaya Toushirou stared at the man who had given him an identity. He felt a deep respect growing for Kenpachi. Not only did he defeat those men (not that he needed it), but he also gave him something to separate himself from the thousands of other souls in Rukongai. He wasn't stupid; he knew he was different. Ever since that time he accidentally froze a dozen people when they staggered into his private hut, he started dreaming of snow. A field of white flakes, complete with blue skies and blasting bitter winds. Recently, the hazy image of a flying serpent had started to haunt the frozen world.

"Your hair's really white," Yachiru exclaimed, dragging him back to reality. "It's like mine, but not pink." She grinned. "You're like a snowball!"

"Snowball..." Toushirou repeated slowly. He was being named a lot of things today.

She giggled. "Hello, Snowball!" She tugged on Kenpachi's ear. "Can we take him with us?"

"What?" Kenpachi's eyes widened. "Another kid?"

"Come with us," Yachiru told Toushirou. "There's room on Kenny's other shoulder."

"Wait a minute –"

"C'mon!"

"Yachiru!" Kenpachi looked back at the girl. "We can't take him. It's too dangerous."

"But _here_ is dangerous!"

"We're travelling. Travelling is dangerous."

Yachiru looked confused. "But I thought we were heading to the place that's not dangerous?"

"Yes –"

"So it's not dangerous!"

Kenpachi was about to continue the argument, but common sense kicked in and told him it was _not_ a good idea. He shook his head. "Never mind." He raised an eyebrow at Toushirou. "Hop on." The boy was probably not going to last a week, no matter how smart he may be.

"Yay!" Yachiru clutched Kenpachi's clothes in anticipation.

Toushirou, who had not expressed his opinion on the matter, said, "Um..."

"You're coming with us, kid," Kenpachi said gruffly. "Hurry up before I change my mind."

Nonplussed, but nevertheless happy at the situation, he jumped down from his branch, stepped toward the tall man and looked for a way to get onto his back. He was _tall._ How in the world did Yachiru get up there?

"Here." A coarse hand grasped the back of his clothes and boosted him up to the shoulder. Kenpachi checked Toushirou's grip. "Hold tight, don't fall off, and you'll be fine." He picked up his rusty sword and walked away from the glade.

"Where are we going?" Toushirou asked. The minor bobbing was going to take some time to get used to. Other than that, it was actually pretty fun riding on the giant's shoulder. He was almost able to ignore Kenpachi's suffocating aura. In addition to that, the knowledge that he would not have to watch his back anymore lifted a large portion of the tension he had accumulated over the years he had lived alone. He had companions –_friends._ It was a good feeling.

"The Seireitei," Kenpachi said. "Home of the shinigami."

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**Review please! Or else... I won't update soon! Yeah... But it's likely that I won't update soon anyway... But yeah... (Yep, that was a threat. Aren't I evil?)**


	2. Arrival

**Disclaimer: Bleach is not mine.**

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**Chapter 2: Arrival**

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Kenpachi, Yachiru, and Toushirou travelled for months, shattering Kenpachi's prediction that his newest kid would not last a week. They endured the ruthless districts of North Rukongai one by one, staying together and avoiding the violent scuffles for the most part. Of course, Kenpachi had to fight for all three of them whenever people lacking in common sense had the audacity to insult the two strange children hanging from his broad shoulders. All three of them had varying levels of pride, and they did not like anyone who dared step on their boundaries. The idiots who offended them usually did not live very long. Because of that, his infamy had spread from district to district. Not as many people slighted them now, but sometimes, a singular person wanting to make a reputation of his own would confront Kenpachi and goad him into a duel. In these cases, Kenpachi would accept, then proceed to let his opponent play for a while before overpowering him with one strong blow. He would let him live though. He always gave his opponent parting words that would – hopefully – make him a better warrior.

"_Don't admit defeat and seek death, die first, then admit defeat. When you lose, but don't die, it just means you were lucky. At those times, think only about survival. Survive and think only about killing the guy who failed to kill you."_

As they passed through each district, it became less and less dangerous. The people would be more civilized; the houses would be sturdier; and the general atmosphere would be less threatening. They did not have to build their own camps anymore – they could borrow a vacant shack and spend a night or two inside without anyone disturbing them. In the middle districts, people minded their own business.

Kenpachi preferred to move leisurely, at his own pace. He often took afternoon naps, which enabled Yachiru and Toushirou to go off on their own and do what they please. Yachiru frequently snuck into shops and nick a few small bags of candy here and there. She was smart enough to be diverse and take only tiny amounts of candy from each kind. She learned that lesson after a shopkeeper discovered his entire stash of lollipops missing and followed the very faint, muddy tracks Yachiru had left. She also hunted for the essentials – food, water, shoes, the occasional money, et cetera (after all, one cannot live on candy alone, no matter how much Yachiru wanted to). Kenpachi did not question where she got the supplies. He knew better than that.

Toushirou, on the other hand, preferred to spend his free time trying to gather as much information from the locals as possible. He eavesdropped for the candy shops with the most oblivious vendor. He exchanged his findings with Yachiru, who gave him sweets in return. She always made sure she had a different sort of candy to trade. They still had not found anything that can trump Toushirou's taste for watermelon – mochi came close, though. He also listened for the best roads to travel, the cheapest shops to buy food from, and other necessary tidbits to make their march to the Seireitei as smooth as possible. He made a pact with Yachiru long ago to let him recommend the directions to Kenpachi in exchange for a ten percent decrease on how much candy she gives him. Frankly, her sense of direction was not as good as her infiltration skills.

Naturally, Kenpachi was unaware of their escapades. Yachiru's candy was always strategically hidden deep in their clothes, or in the "secret compartments" they had made at the back of Kenpachi's clothing. Being the strong man he was, he did not notice the extra weight on his back. He assumed that the uncomfortable impression on his back was just the old blankets – damn things were so itchy.

Really, Kenpachi had no idea how devious his two little passengers were. Not that he would care if he found out.

Now, they were in the first district of North Rukongai. After months of walking (in Kenpachi's case), they can finally see the Seireitei close-up and in person. It was a grand sight. Soaring white walls reached up to the ginger skies, radiating a strange, stifling aura. Behind those walls, all they could see was a lofty tower flanking a hill with cliffs on all sides, the setting sun providing an ethereal glow to the majestic structures. To their keen eyes, they could also see a speck of shiny metal being held in place by a long pole. It must have been huge if they could see it from outside the walls.

"How do we get inside?" Yachiru asked, an excited gleam in her eyes. Toushirou noticed this; it had also been there the last several times they visited the wall. She loved breaking into seemingly-impenetrable buildings, and the challenge of breaking into the Seireitei had kept her busy for quite some time.

"Maybe there's doors." Kenpachi moved closer, scanning the large expanse of white before him. It was very much lacking in doors.

Toushirou stifled a yawn.

Kenpachi sent a quick look to the boy latched on his right shoulder and sighed in frustration. "We'll figure it out tomorrow. Let's go back to the hut." He turned around and paused. He looked at the left path, then right, then straight ahead. "It's... this way." He stepped on the right path.

Toushirou quickly said, "Left." He pulled on his ear to emphasize – a nasty habit he picked up from Yachiru.

Kenpachi switched lanes and took the left path. They passed countless houses turning dark and shops closing up for the day. After a forty minute walk and a few more directions from Toushirou, they came upon their own house. It was old and dusty, but no one was living inside – and that was all that mattered. The deeper they went into the safer districts, the harder it was to find unoccupied accommodations. Their little hut was probably the only deserted house in the district.

"All right, you two," Kenpachi grunted. "Get off."

Yachiru and Toushirou dropped from his back in one fell swoop. Kenpachi settled on a pile of tattered blankets, threw his long katana beside him, and promptly nodded off. His soft breathing filled the room as the two children waited until their guardian was safely dead to the world.

She whispered softly, "Did you find any places?"

He nodded. He could hear the underlying nervousness beneath. They had not had any chance to find any sweets ever since Kenpachi got obsessed with finding a way inside the Seireitei. He had been determined to enter the walls, now that they were so close. He even skipped his daily naps in favour of traversing through the districts faster. Today's setback with the still-non-existent entrance had annoyed him immensely. They had felt it in his aura – it was heavier than usual. "There's a shop five blocks from here. Turn left and keep going until you see a sign that says, 'Kiyandi's Shop.'" He had heard of the shop when a couple of young children ran by, clutching bags of sweets and snickering about the easy pickings in Kiyandi's Shop.

"Okay."

"Yachiru. Turn _left. Kiyandi's_ Shop."

"Got it." She stood up and silently slipped out of the hut.

Toushirou did not leave. He did not see the point in leaving if there were not any people to listen on for information. He will try tomorrow. He was awfully curious about the events inside the Seireitei. The only snatches of information he can salvage from Kenpachi's shoulder was that two new Captains had recently been appointed. That bit was useless, since he did not actually know what a Captain was. He guessed they were important, though. They had to be, if the news spread all the way to Rukongai. Even he knew that information from inside the Seireitei was confidential – and the little that leaked out were either garbled through the passing of so many mouths, or lies made up by the bored citizens of Rukongai. The reason he believed the news about the two new captains was because he himself had heard it from a couple of battered-looking Shinigami whispering to each other while he was trying to confirm the rumours he heard about a store giving away free mochi (sadly, that was not true).

He leaned against the damp walls and picked at the scratchy blanket over his legs. He had to wait for Yachiru and help her hide the candy she would no doubt bring back – maybe this time she would bring back something good. Like mochi. Or perhaps watermelon – he had not eaten those ever since they left the seventh district.

His eyes drifted over to the sleeping form of his guardian. He was very grateful that he took him in. He would still be in the Kusajishi district if it were not for him. He would probably have died by now if he stayed there. At first, Kenpachi had been openly annoyed with him. He would listen to Yachiru for directions and ignore Toushirou's suggestions. Kenpachi decided to listen to his other kid for once when they somehow got lost inside a small patch of trees – Toushirou had pointed to an opening about twenty feet away. After that, he was more willing to heed his advice. His pact with Yachiru helped immensely.

"Shiro-chan!"

His eyes snapped open at the nickname. He focused his gaze on Yachiru, who was crouching down in front of him, gleefully holding a big, pink bag with her left hand. He realized he must have dozed off. "Did you get anything new?"

Yachiru grinned. "Yep! But first, turn it down. It's really cold."

He blinked. He suddenly noticed the thin layer of frost covering every inch of surface – except Kenpachi, who did not look the least bit disturbed of the cold.

This has been happening to Toushirou and Yachiru lately. Every day, Toushirou would wake up to an entire room covered in ice; Yachiru would wake up to a room with a strange, sweet impression and a faint lingering purr. Their dreams were becoming more vivid and more intense. Toushirou's snow field was now the proud residence of an ice dragon – and a rather loud one at that. No matter how hard he tried, he could not seem to make out the words it was trying to tell him. According to Yachiru, she was starting to dream of a cat with fur that had the same shade of pink as her hair. It was whining something to her, but it was so far away she could not understand the words clearly. They did not mention this to Kenpachi – it didn't seem like he noticed it. If he knew about the dreams, he would probably dismiss it as their imagination. Toushirou didn't like it when one waves away problems without even attempting to investigate – and Yachiru was well aware of this fact. If he cannot solve this small problem with their consciousness on his own, then he does not deserve the title of "the smarter one" – as Kenpachi dubbed him (he called Yachiru "the faster one").

"Thanks," Yachiru whispered when the temperature rose. "Guess what? I found a new one!" She reached into her bag and pulled out a handful of oval treats. They were small and brown, tidily covered in what looked like fine sugar. "It's called amanatto," she giggled. "A nice old man gave them to me."

Toushirou looked out the window and saw the sky starting to brighten. Almost dawn. "A nice old man with candy at this hour?"

Yachiru shrugged. "Do you want it or not?" She popped one into her mouth and hummed in satisfaction. "It's really good. Better than watermelon."

"Give me some!" He snatched a few pieces and sampled it. He chewed slowly, letting the taste of the new candy unfurl in his tongue. He struggled back a grin, and managed a small smile. "I think we found it."

"Really?"

He nodded vigorously. "It's as good as watermelon – or even better!" He held out his hand, and Yachiru complied, dumping the entire bundle on amanatto on his hand. He knew he shouldn't eat candy at this time of the day, but they might not have time later on if Kenpachi decided to skip his nap again.

"It's good," Yachiru said, "but I like lollipops better. _The really sweet kind._"

Toushirou made a face. He did not like _"the really sweet kind."_ His taste buds had been under attack the entire two seconds it was in his mouth. How Yachiru managed to eat all those lollipops, he did not know. Maybe it was him.

Kenpachi grunted, then stirred. "Do I look like I care...?"

The two exchanged wide-eyed looks before hastily stuffing the candy underneath both their blankets. The slight bulge underneath the covers was just barely unnoticeable – just. Kenpachi turned and opened his eyes blearily.

"Good morning, Ken-chan," Yachiru said sweetly.

"Morning, Ken," Toushirou said.

"What time is it?" Kenpachi mumbled groggily. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

Toushirou checked outside. He could see a tiny slit of orange-red fire starting to ascend in the horizon. "It's sunrise."

Kenpachi got to his feet and grabbed his jagged katana. "Let's go buy breakfast." Without waiting for the two children (he knew they would get on his back at some point), he made his way to the door.

Yachiru and Toushirou rapidly stuffed the as much candy in their pockets as possible and chucked the rest into the pink bag. Together, they launched themselves up on Kenpachi's back and clung to each of his shoulder blades. Keeping hold of Yachiru's bag, they hid the candy in the secret compartments. Yachiru had brought in quite a load today, so they ate the remaining candy that won't fit while Kenpachi was looking for a place to buy food.

"I think I smell food," Toushirou said, quietly snacking on the amanatto. "I think it's coming from the right. What do you think, Yachiru?"

She bobbed her head. A stick was poking out of her mouth.

"All right, then." He veered right and soon found a small stall selling miso soup for a couple of early risers. While they waited in line, they drew a lot of attention from the other people. Some openly gawked at them, some shot sly glances, and everyone steered clear. Kenpachi's aura kept them at bay.

"Y-yes, sir?" the skinny vendor squeaked. His knees were quivering, and his brow was dotted with nervous sweat. Zaraki Kenpachi was a very intimidating man.

"Three of whatever you're serving," Kenpachi said.

The vendor, with a shaky hand, poured them three bowls of miso soup. Kenpachi deposited a few coins from his pouch on the counter, took three pairs of wooden chopsticks, and went to sit on the side.

"Too hot," Toushirou muttered as he tasted a chunk of tofu.

"No, it's too cold," Yachiru complained. "You're just being you again."

They ate in silence. A freckled girl with long black hair ran past them, chasing two others in a game of tag. Toushirou overheard a couple of gossiping old women chatting about the two new Captains.

"I heard one of them's from the Kuchiki family," one whispered. "Wearing a white scarf along with the white haori those Captains always wear."

"The other one's apparently a genius," the other one replied. "Fastest to achieve Captaincy. How long do you think it takes to become one of the most powerful people in the Seireitei?"

"Centuries," she giggled.

_Most powerful, huh..._

Finishing off the soup, they placed the bowls back on the counter and left for the outskirts of the Seireitei.

On arrival, Kenpachi stomped to the wall and scrutinized the barrier. "There's something about this wall." He tried punching the wall and rewarded himself with slightly bruised knuckles.

"Are you trying to punch your way in? No one can go inside aside from the Shinigami." A tall, battle-scarred man in black clothing stepped forward from a grove of trees. A white, sleeveless haori was draped over his broad shoulders, along with black gloves and a faint scar across his neck. His green eyes gleamed of excitement as he looked Kenpachi up and down.

Kenpachi frowned. "How would you know?"

He shrugged. "Everyone knows that. The Kokuryoumon is about a day's walk from here – and the Gate Guardian is a very strong shinigami." He smiled, flashing a set of broken teeth. "You should apply for the Academy."

"The what?"

"The Academy is for people who wish to become Shinigami, but only if you have enough reiryoku." He grinned even more. "And you, my friend, are overflowing with the stuff."

Yachiru peered over his shoulder, her wide eyes alight with curiousity.

"What's this?" The man tilted his head in curiousity. "Is that your daughter?"

"That's none of your business," Kenpachi replied. "Now, which way is the gate?"

The man pointed left. "Oh, and if you do get in – "

Kenpachi strode away, not bothering to listen to the man's words.

"You should probably listen to what he has to say," Toushirou commented.

He shook his head. "I already know what I need to know."

"He's a Captain – one of the most powerful people in the Seireitei."

Kenpachi stopped. "What?"

"The black shihakusho is the uniform of the shinigami." He deduced that from the few Shinigami he saw around. "The white haori symbolizes a captain's status." He pointed a thumb behind him. "And that guy has both."

Kenpachi twisted his head to look back, but the man – the Captain – was gone.

Yachiru, not to be outdone, proudly said, "I built an underground tunnel that goes all around the district."

"What?" Kenpachi repeated.

"There's candy on your back," Yachiru added.

"Hey!" Toushirou protested.

"Wha –" Kenpachi stopped. "How did you even have time to build an underground tunnel?"

"When you were napping."

"Yachiru!"

"Never mind." Kenpachi set off. "I don't want to know what you two have been up to."

Toushirou sent a glare to Yachiru, who ignored the imaginary ice daggers and merely smiled happily.

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**Guess what? I'm not dead!  
I'm so sorry for the late update! Now that I'm done with my online class, I _should_ (theoretically) be able to update more. But I'm also working on a few more stories, so don't expect an update_ that_ soon. I'm also resolving to plan out each and every one of the chapters up to the end of the Soul Society arc (at the very least) before writing the third chapter. That way, I won't butcher the original plan I laid out.  
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**Next chapter: Ikkaku and Yumichika!  
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**Onto personal matters. . .  
It's been so long since I even last looked at this story. I actually wrote this chapter two months ago, but I never got around to editing it. I've written quite a few other things between Chapter 1 and Chapter 2, and I can't believe how much my writing style has changed. I think Chapter 3 would reflect how different my style was from Chapter 1.  
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**Also, expect longer chapters after this. I discovered that chapters with around six thousand words look better when it's uploaded (a stupid reason, I know, but at least you get longer chapters!).  
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**The cover is so boring. . . I'm going to work on a new one, but I can't think of anything. Suggestions are welcome!  
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**Another thing: Please go to my profile and check out the poll! I'm planning out a new story, and I need your opinion on this.  
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**And I want to thank you all for the support - you're all awesome for doing that. I didn't expect to get that many reviews and favourites on the first chapter. Keep it up, guys!  
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**Whoo, that was a long author's note. . .  
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